Feel It Still
by astral flower
Summary: He thought back to the last time he saw her. The golden tresses of blonde hair tumbling down her back as it rested in a messy ponytail stained with crimson. The same blue eyes that he would stare into for hours upon end as they spoke in the stillness of the days that surrounded them, the true epitome of a window to her soul – which now, as she stood before him, were betraying her.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

 _I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl._

There she was standing before him; a sight in which he never believed he would be fortunate enough to ever witness again. He wanted to reach out his arm, his calloused fingers reaching for her but he hesitated, unsure as to whether his mind was playing tricks on him again thus creating an illusion of something that he had wanted so much in the world to be true.

He thought back to the last time he saw her. The golden tresses of blonde hair tumbling down her back as it rested in a messy ponytail stained with crimson. The same blue eyes that he would stare into for hours upon end as they spoke in the stillness of the days that surrounded them, the true epitome of a window to her soul – which now, as she stood before him, were betraying the cool composure she was trying so hard to maintain. Her hair was shorter, cut to just below her chin with jagged ends that suggested a knife and impatience had been used instead of a steady hand and sharp scissors.

She was older, by just a small amount of time. It had been two years since he had seen the life seep out of her on that fateful day – the same day that seemed to burn his mind every time he thought of her. Or so he had thought. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, betraying his own composure, which was reminiscent of a child trying to figure out an equation. He had been sure that she had been taken from them, from him. They had all been sure. She had been shot in the head. No one came back from that.

He blinked a few times, still believing his mind to be playing tricks on him like they used to do in the days, weeks, months, even years after Merle's untimely death. The visions of Merle were so vivid that Daryl had believed if he had reached out to touch his brother, that his fingers would brush against the face of his brother. The visions became a constant fixture in his every-day life, and soon it became a relief once sleep took him away for a short time.

He caught murmurs around him and he tore his gaze from the ghost of his past to see as Maggie stood just as dumbfounded as he was. He saw it in her eyes, the disbelief, the sadness, the overwhelming relief. Her reaction was the only confirmation he needed.

She was alive.

After all this time, she stood before him once more.

He caught a figure behind her, and moved his gaze from her reluctantly - hoping that once he looked at her again that she would still be stood in front of him and not dissipate into thin air like she had done many times before. His gaze moved to the person that was poised just a few inches away from her.

He thought back to that morning when he woke with the same feeling of heaviness upon his chest that he had endured for so long that it had become a permanent fixture to his life – in the way he stood, moved, slept. But in that moment, as his eyes trained in on the woman next to her, the tightness in his hands and chest released from within him and he felt that he was able to breathe a sigh of relief – one that he sought great comfort from.

The spark in her eyes that he remembered her to have was gone, but the smirk he had familiarised himself with etched across her face was there and he knew.

She had promised him her return but as the days had stretched into months, it seemed unlikely he would ever see her again. The world was cruel, but she had been defiant.

And with her return, she had brought the missing piece in his life: Beth.


	2. Chapter One

Author's Note: Hello! So this story will be set out with interweaving chapters of the past and present, so that we can learn more about the events that lead up to Beth being reunited with the group after so long. My OC is not a love interest of Daryl, but I'm not opposed to her having some romance in her life if the story unfolds in that way. This will be a Bethyl story - and an emotional one at that.

If you have any questions, do feel free to message me.

All reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated!

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CHAPTER ONE: THE PAST

In the aftermath of what had occurred, the world was deafly quiet.

The utter disbelief of the events of the evening had numbed him to his very core, and his mind was trying to protect him from the true horror of what had happened: of what a man wanting vengeance can do in the heat of the moment, of what a man could do to another human being when his authority was questioned. The sound of the bat whooshing through the air radiated throughout his head repeatedly until his brain conjured up the sound of the bat connecting with his friends' heads. He closed his eyes and let out an inaudible sob.

His mind was screaming but he remained still, or as still as his ragged and pained breathing would allow him. His senses returned to him in stages.

The sound of the sobs coming from his remaining friends that surrounding him, settled in heaps with all life deflated from them as they processed the laughter coming from the man who they only knew by name as he waved the bat around carelessly.

The feeling of the blood flicking in their direction and marking his skin, staining him forever in guilt and heartache.

The sight of his friends as they lay on their fronts - still and lifeless – and degraded in such a way by a man who didn't bother to know their names before bludgeoning them to death.

The heavy scent of blood and vomit filling the air around him.

The taste of bile rising and sitting heavily at the back of his throat – tangy and offensive to him.

The voice of Merle echoed in his mind in that moment. _Don't show him weakness, brother._

"And there we have it, ladies and gentlemen, the main event has come to an end," Negan began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That is what I like to call the 'ultimate Negan experience'. Not one but two of your friends felt the wrath of my girl, Lucille."

The world was still silent, except for the stifled laughter coming from the hordes of men surrounding them. Negan stepped closer to them, placing the bad just a few inches away from their faces, showing off his handiwork. As it reached Daryl, the bile rose further into his mouth, and the sound of his brothers' voice grew louder and sterner.

 _Don't show him weakness, brother. I raised ya to be a man._

His head felt heavy with dizziness and he couldn't truly comprehend what was happening. It all happened all at once. Negan moved backwards, raising the bat upwards.

"Lucille: seen by many, felt by few," Negan said, as he brought it downwards with force, but stopping just an inch away from Daryl's head. The movement, the action, the look of amusement on Negan's face, and the closeness of death was overwhelming. The little contents of his stomach seemed to warrant an escape and he allowed his body to take over as it convulsed as he vomited in front of Negan.

"Ooh, look here," Negan continued, taking a step backwards in disgust. "We have someone who can't handle a little joke."

Daryl felt his skin become hot from the gazes of the men upon him, all now watching as he showed his more vulnerable side. The chortles came in waves to him and he kept his head down. The aroma of vomit hit him. And he cast a glance towards Negan who was visibly repulsed by him.

"I don't know what's riper," Negan said. "That right there or smell of your friends bashed in brains."

Anger coursed through Daryl, and despite his sickened condition and the injury to his shoulder, he leapt forward, his good shoulder swinging a fist in Negan's direction. He felt Glenn and Abraham's presence for a moment as his fist connected with the man's face. Negan fell backwards, taking Daryl with him, and they crashed to the ground hard. The sound of Negan's men jumping to defend their leader could be heard as they all collectively aimed their weapons in his direction. He pulled himself up from the ground, in time for Rick to grab hold of him.

Rick's gaze was intense, and his eyes burned into his soul. He whispered quietly. "Can't lose you, too."

It was all Daryl needed to calm himself down. As Negan hollered behind him and found his feet again, Daryl returned to where he had been slumped on the ground, like a dog ordered to his crate. He bowed his head, ashamed of his outburst. Negan's obscenities were being thrown in his direction, and Daryl's actions had angered the man more.

Negan closed the gap between them. Daryl watched as he dropped Lucille onto the ground and pulled Daryl up by the scruff of his collar. His eyes burned into him angrily, a stark contrast to that of Rick.

"Give me one good reason why you shouldn't end up like your friends," Negan seethed, bitterly. Blood seeped from his nose and ran along the curve of his lips.

Daryl narrowed his gaze at him, careful of his injured shoulder as the man pulled at him harshly. "Ain't got one," was all Daryl could say. Negan furrowed his brow at him before giving him a pitiful look and releasing him from his grip. Daryl stumbled to ground, pulling his shoulder as he tried to steady himself. He turned his back on the hunter.

"As lovely as this introduction has been," Negan began. "I'm bored. And I don't know about any of you but I am beat. I could do with a nap. I hope you all learned your lesson of the day. Don't mess with the big dogs because we bite back. Got that? Good."

He motioned for his men to disperse and to prepare for the journey back to the compound. He stopped for a moment before pointing a finger in Daryl's direction. The hunter felt the stares of his remaining friends fall on him.

"I'm gonna take this guy as payment," he continued. "You try anything again and he'll be returned to you in pieces. Don't think you can afford another person in your group to die. Got that, Rick?"

Rick nodded, his head cast downwards. Two men pulled Daryl from the ground, ignoring the groans of pain as they pulled at his wounded shoulder. They lead him into the back of the truck and bound his hands together. He looked at his friends one last time and hoped that it wouldn't truly be the last time he saw their faces.

He woke a few hours later.

His head was heavy, and a piercing pain shot through his head like a flare hurtling into the night sky and sending a warning signal. He held onto the wall, the rough concrete grazing against his calloused hands. His face was sore and it was only when he reached up and tenderly touched his face that he realised he'd been beaten. His nose was bloody and dislodged. He pressed down on it – mostly to feel something.

As he sat against the wall, the coldness of the stone sending shockwaves throughout his bare and naked body, he groaned in pain as he righted his broken nose. A stifled moan escaped him.

"You're awake," a soft voice came from the darkness.

His eyes searched the darkness but she was hidden by the cloak of night that had descended upon them.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said after a moment. "They already did a good enough job of that."

"Who are ya? Ya one of them?"

A scoff bounced off the walls. "I'm a prisoner, like you."

"I ain't a prisoner," he growled, the pain his head intensifying.

"I'm Callie."

After a beat, he spoke. "Daryl."

"Why are you here?"

"He killed my friends. I punched him."

She was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Daryl said. "Don't need ya sympathy."

"Here," she said. He felt something land at his feet. "You need to keep warm."

He reached for it and found it to be a blanket; scratchy material with holes worn through the fabric. He muttered his thanks to her, and they remained in silence for the rest of the night. As dawn crept over them slowly, taking away the last remaining dredges of night with it, it was the first time he was able to see her face.

She had her eyes closed and the slow rise and fall of her bare chest indicated that she had succumbed to her tiredness. She, too, was naked like he was except for the blanket that was wrapped around her, albeit lacking in length. He moved his gaze away from her respectfully but the state of her face burned in his mind.

Bruises and cuts adorned her face: a busted and bloody lip, a broken and split cheekbone, a broken nose and a bruised eye socket. All that seemed to match his own.


	3. Chapter Two

Author's Note: Thank you for the response to the last chapter! I really appreciate everyone who has read/reviewed/favourited! So this chapter is in the present, set just after the prologue. I hope you enjoy!

All reviews are welcome and appreciated!

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CHAPTER TWO: THE PRESENT

Daryl wasn't sure what made him hesitate. When all he wanted to do was close the gap between them, wrap his strong arms around her and promise to never let her down again, he remained still. The familiar voice of Merle filled his mind, berating him. He drowned out the southern drawl of his brother, and moved his gaze towards Maggie who, like himself, was unsure of what to do.

He had thought about seeing her again. He had always known that it wouldn't be possible. She was dead. He was sure she had been dead. How could she be alive? The bullet from Dawn's weapon had blown through her head; causing blood splatter to stain the wall behind her and had marked their skin in small droplets like paint spraying off a paintbrush like a painter drawing the pivotal scene in their lives.

He thought of when he sat in the quiet hours of that evening, with the spots of Beth's blood upon his skin. The world had suddenly grown darker and colder without her. He felt alone which he had never felt before in his life. He enjoyed his own company but Beth had taught him to open his heart and himself to friendship, and to love. And with Beth gone, he was lonely. Rick would come to sit with him, noticing that he was staying away from the group more than he had done before. Maggie would sit with him too, and it was in those moments that he would cry silently to himself.

The last time he had seen her, she was laying in his arms. Eyes closed, mouth ajar, peaceful. He had watched her sleep a few times when he had taken watch, and he would always be amazed at how peaceful and angelic she looked: the slow rise and fall of her chest; the twitch of her hand as she dreamed; the furrowed brow she would make as the sun would travel through the window and land in a beam on her face. But this time, she wouldn't open her eyes and search for him. And she wouldn't smile as soon as her eyes landed on him. And she wouldn't shyly move her hair out of her face and look away.

He had opened his heart to her in such a way that he didn't think it was possible to feel so much pain and sadness in the days after her death.

Walkers had come and he had to go. He had to leave Beth alone. He promised he would never leave her side, and he had to be pulled away from her; her lifeless body slipping out of his arms and onto the ground and in the path of the dead.

He had broken his promise to her.

But she was standing in front of him.

Her eyes scanned the faces of the people who had become her family with the same look of confusion they were looking at her with. Flashes of uncertainty, uneasiness, the memory of what had transpired on that fateful day when she was separated from the group. He could see the questions floating around her mind and he only guessed the important one – the same one he asked himself every day: why had they left her?

He turned to Maggie in hope that she would be able to take charge of the situation. But she was staring at her sister in disbelief.

He heard a mumble of words, none that seemed to form any he understood. He turned back to Beth.

"M… Ma-" she began then grew frustrated after a moment. Her voice caused his brow to soften. "Ma… M… Mag… Maggie…"

A sob escaped Maggie and she moved closer to her younger sister. "Beth," she whispered, allowing the tears to tumble down her cheeks. "You were… we thought…"

Beth reached for Maggie and they hugged each other tightly.

"I… I… u-understand," Beth stammered, her voice now a stark contrast to the angelic voice she once had. She pulled away from Maggie and stepped aside. "T-this… is… Ca… Cal-lie."

His eyes fell on her. The woman stood behind her. The woman who allowed Beth to have control of the situation. The very same woman who allowed him to regain control of his emotions, and calmed the storm of sadness that tried to throw him out of the ship he was grasping on tightly, hoping it wouldn't destroy him in ways he had seen in other people. The last conversation they had echoed in his mind. The last reassuring hug they shared tickled his skin.

He had to do something. She, too, had something she needed to do.

There had been the promise of each other's return. One in which they seemingly kept. It had been months since they had seen each other last, and as they stared at each other, the acknowledgement of the other passing between them in a nod, they knew deep down that their promise was real. He had wondered about her, had hoped to find some sort of clue that she was still around and part of him wished he would pick up on her trail.

He knew that she didn't want to be found. And when she was ready to be found, she would find him. He moved towards her after a moment of wonder, and closed the gap between them. He wrapped his strong arms around her, and she hugged him back tightly. He felt her heart beating against his chest, and his breathing increased as the emotion took hold of him. He wasn't an emotional person but he realised, with this new world, that it brought out the evil in people but it also brought out the good in people. The vulnerability of a person would be seen as weakness, and he believed it to be true for so long. But the people he had met along the way had become his friends – his family even – and when he felt like he didn't belong, there was always someone to make him feel wanted and important. As though his voice was just as important as others.

"Hey, stranger," she whispered close to him, her warm breath tickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Ya brought her back to me," Daryl whispered, quiet enough that it was only her who heard him. "How did ya find her?"

"I put in a few calls," she smirked. He smiled at her humour. As she pulled away, he could see the difference in her face after the months of her being away. He had seen her at her very worst, just as she had with him. But she was different. Her smile never reached her eyes anymore. There were more scars on her face than he had remembered. He furrowed his brow at her and she knew by the way he was looking at her that he was examining her face.

Immediately, she moved away from him. He allowed his arms to drop to his side just as Rick's voice filled his ears, tearing him away from his worry.

"You've met before?" Rick asked, his voice stern and worrisome.

Daryl nodded. "Yeah. She got me out of the compound."

The compound. It had been a while since he had last spoken about the compound. It was something he thought about often, as he was sure the others did too. It was a different world now, where the compound and those monsters who lived within the walls were no longer a problem in their lives. The group had walked away with more scars than they had before, and memories that haunted them enough to creep into their dreams.

The group quietened around him. It was a battle that had ended suddenly, which had left them all wondering if it was truly the end to things. When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Negan and his men didn't burn the wall down to get into Alexandria, they knew something had happened.

Rick stared at the woman for a moment. He extended his arm towards her, his hand outstretched for her. She glanced at it before extending her own. Her hand was calloused, just like his, and he shook her hand in gratitude.

"Thank you," Rick said. "Thank you for being there for him when we couldn't."

She offered a small smile. "It was my pleasure," she said, throwing Daryl a smile.

Rick turned and watched as Beth was welcomed back into the group. New faces and old faces welcomed her home. He noticed the sadness on her face when she realised the missing puzzle piece. Glenn. She hugged her sister tightly.

The two men stared at the back of the young girl. It took them a while to see the scar on the back of her head, the shape where the hole had been. Though there was no crimson liquid staining her hair any longer, the memory of her being carried outside to her sister, lifeless and still, burned their mind. They noticed she had moved her hair to cover it, but it was as if they were able to see it no matter if she was able to hide it or not. They would never forget what happened to her. Rick looked away and glanced towards Daryl who kept his watchful eye on her, too afraid to look away from her.

"How did you find her?" Rick asked Callie.

"Through our mutual friend," Callie answered. "Negan."

Rick furrowed his brow, his jaw tensing at the mere mention of his name. It was a name that he hadn't heard in a long time. When he didn't reply, she continued.

"I'd been on my own for a few weeks," Callie said, feeling the burn of Daryl's gaze upon her now. "And I came across a building. A hospital set back from the horror of the streets."

"Grady Memorial," Daryl pitched in, his voice low.

Callie nodded. "Yeah. That's the one. They took me in, patched me up, and told me that I could stay awhile until I was ready to head back out."

"Ya were hurt?" Daryl asked.

"It was nothing," Callie shrugged. "He had ventured out, spreading his evilness further. He had been collecting from them. Medical supplies, mostly. Women, often."

She fell silent, her eyes flicking towards Beth. She took a breath. "I'd been there a week more or less. I heard his voice first. I thought it was my mind at first, masking someone's voice with his but it was him. He'd been visiting for a while with his men. Just when I thought I'd gotten away from him. I hid in a room when I heard him getting closer. And that's how I met Beth."

Daryl glanced towards Beth once more. The guilt he felt was overwhelming. As he turned back, Callie understood.

"She would hide from him, I would come to learn. He, not getting the hint, would look for her. Steven told me that he mocked her for not being able to talk properly. That his men would laugh in chorus," Callie said, bitterness biting at her voice. "So, I stayed. I got to know her. Steven told me that she'd been shot in the head by a police officer there and that she had survived. And things started to fall into place, of the things she would tell me through writing and what Daryl had told me about her."

"Is he…" Rick began but faltered. Did he want to know? It had been quiet without the threat of Negan around. Did he want to open those wounds again? Did he want to relive the wrath of Negan?

"Alive? No."

Callie's answer was short and sweet. The relief he felt was immense. He believed her by the tone of her voice.

"I made sure he didn't see another day."


	4. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE: THE PAST

When he woke the next time, the tomb he was placed in was empty.

All evidence of the woman he had met just a few hours before was gone. As his tired and pained eyes scanned around the small room he was in, he was sure she had been a fragment of his imagination. In the days after Merle's death, he would see his brother out of the corner of his eye even though he knew it was just his mind protecting him from the pain and realisation that his brother was taken from him. He was sure she had been real. She had to be.

It was only when he heard the door open to the room next to him and a low grumble of a male voice – one that he had heard berate his friends and himself – and the voice of a female, now familiar to him by memory, that he knew he hadn't made her up. He strained himself around so that his ear was placed on the cold concrete. The barrier between them consisted of a one brick divide where he could hear the vibrations of their voices bounce off the wall between both rooms.

 _"When are you going to understand the quicker you get it through your thick skull that I'm doing this for you the easier it will be here for you?"_

 _"I'm not telling you shit."_

 _"You really have a bad mouth, don't you? I don't like it."_

 _"You killed my men. And for what? Because we didn't get your supplies in time?"_

 _"You know the rules. They knew the rules."_

 _"We did what we could. You knew we were struggling to get everything in time. I trusted you when you said we had extra time. You went back on your word and killed my men. So therefore, I ain't telling you shit anymore. Those weapons will never be yours."_

 _"You're going to regret it."_

 _"Good. I hope you burn in hell, Negan. You and your men."_

Daryl heard a pained cry escape her through the wall. He felt his own hands clench in anger as he heard her whimper. He punched at the wall with all the energy he had but it was to no effect. The beating was still happening just a few metres away and he felt powerless at knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it.

 _"I didn't want to do it. I don't like hitting you. But you don't understand the longer you don't tell me where those weapons are, the harsher the beatings will become."_

 _"And you don't understand. Over my dead body."_

 _"I hope keeping it a secret is worth it. Sooner or later, I'm going to find out and it's going to be from your mouth."_

 _"Over… my… dead… body…"_

He heard a door slam shut, the vibration of it reverberating along the wall. He heard keys lock the door and then footsteps outside his room. They came to a stop just outside his door and he narrowed his eyes at the door separating him and his enemy. The man who took his best friend away without a second thought. The man who had done horrible and unforgivable things to him and his family, and he wasn't sure why. The ghosts of Glenn and Abraham were with him, and would always be with him. If he ever made it out of this place, they would walk alongside him and forever be in his heart. They were good people, who had so much promise for the future and had been taken from them all in the blink of an eye.

He saw the shadow of feet underneath the door move away. He released the breath he didn't realise he was holding in, a sense of relief washing over him.

He didn't know when he would come face to face with Negan but he knew he had to keep a level head, and make sure he was of sound mind knowing that Negan was capable of manipulating him in ways he wasn't sure of yet. Daryl knew Negan was capable of using violence, and he knew deep down he was capable of protecting in ways that were unspeakable.

Once he was sure the footsteps were not returning and Negan was gone from the surrounding area, he tapped against the concrete wall. He waited a moment for a response. Just when he gave up, and retreated back into the comfortable position with his back against the cold concrete, a knock sounded behind his head.

"He beat ya, didn't he?" he said to the wall, loud enough for her to hear him.

The room was silent for a moment before her voice came through the wall.

 _"It's nothing,"_ she replied. _"Did you hear everything?"_

"Hard not to," he responded. "Why'd he kill ya men?"

 _"He wanted us to join him. Become stronger than what he was now. More weapons, more food, more muscle. I told him no. He didn't like it,"_ she explained. _"So, he opened fire on my group."_

Daryl was at a loss for words. This allowed her the space to open her heart, and allow herself to grieve.

 _"They dropped like flies. One after the other, down they went,"_ she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. _"It was all around me. My friends being shot carelessly in front of my eyes. Their heads knocking back, crashing to their knees, their scared eyes on me. I couldn't do anything to help them. I let them down."_

"No," Daryl spoke then. "Ya didn't let them down."

 _"I'm still here, aren't I?"_ Callie scoffed.

"Survivors guilt," Daryl replied. "It gets to us from time to time."

 _"They all died because I didn't join him,"_ she seethed. _"He took me prisoner to teach me a lesson. And this? This is a hard reminder of doing the right thing."_

"A friend of mine would tell me that if it feels right in ya heart then ya made the right decision," Daryl said, in hope that his words would bring her comfort, the same way it brought him comfort.

Glenn had always been wise with words and Daryl, even though he was much older than him, would look up to Glenn. He had gotten it right in the new world since the turn. He had found someone to love, and had proven to the world that he would not give up on trying to find some normalcy in each day. He had continued on with his life despite the decaying world around him. Maggie had shown him a reason to carry on. And they both challenged the new world in such a way that it was admirable to those around them. They had married in a small ceremony in the prison grounds and now, as they had settled in Alexandria, had made the decision to start a family which was something they both had wanted and never thought was possible in this world.

 _"Your friend makes a lot of sense,"_ she replied after a moment. _"It doesn't stop it from hurting though."_

"Don't think it ever does," Daryl said honestly. "But ya just have to keep going. Keep ya chin up."

 _"Have you ever wanted to give up?"_

"Yeah." he replied, his mind jumping back those moments that happened mostly in the dark of night where loneliness and sadness crept out the shadows.

 _"What made you carry on?"_

"The fact that I ain't scared of dying," Daryl replied, sadly. "People depend on me. If I die then they die."

 _"That's a lot of responsibility,"_ she replied.

Daryl was silent. It had always been that way ever since the outbreak rolled out onto the streets. He became their protector, shielding them from danger that surrounded them. He didn't mind it much, and he wondered often whether the people he helped to save would still be alive if he hadn't been there with them. Daryl had spent much of his life without having someone to care for, and no one to care for him. And the old world was a cruel place to be. The new world had thrown people into his life who had grown to care for and, in a twist of fate, cared for him.

"It is," he whispered. "But ya have to find people worth dying for."

And in the silence that came after he spoke, he understood. She had found people willing to die for her, and they had.


	5. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Here's another instalment to Feel It Still. I really hope you enjoy it! I'm really excited to see what you guys think of this chapter! Let me know!

All reviews are welcome and appreciated!

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CHAPTER FOUR: THE PRESENT

As news travelled through Alexandria of the two new arrivals, Daryl took a moment to watch Beth from afar.

She looked different than what he could remember; a stark contrast to the girl limp in his arms as he carried her out of the hospital. She was listening as Carl spoke with her, with Maggie by her side. He could only understand just how confusing it must be for her, to come to a place unknown to her, and be with old faces and new faces she would become to know. There was a difference in her that was an obvious one; and the accident had left her with speech difficulties.

The overwhelming realisation that she was just a few metres away from him was getting to him. He acknowledged that she hadn't approached him, even though all he wanted to do was be close to her. He settled with just watching her, almost in amazement that she was truly there with them again. He found himself pinching himself in the moments that he believed to be dreaming, and when a small sting of pain would appear on the pinched area, he was able to digest her return.

She was safe. She was there. She was alive.

His gaze turned to Callie in that moment. She was speaking with Aaron and Carol. It was as though she sensed his watchful gaze upon her as she moved her gaze towards him. She offered him a small smile, and spoke with Aaron and Carol once more before moving towards him.

"Hey, stranger," he said this time.

"Hey, you," Callie replied. "How are you holding up?"

Daryl understood what she meant. He glanced at Beth and sighed.

"Alright, I think," he replied. "It's…"

"Surreal?" Callie suggested, and when Daryl nodded, she nodded too. "It'll take some time getting used to her being here, let alone having her be alive after all this time."

"Does she remember me at all?" Daryl asked, his voice low and hoarse.

He had told Callie everything about Beth; of the times, they had spent together after the prison had fallen through, of the times they would open up to each other in the darkness of night, of the times he would find himself caring for her more and more and not understand why. And he had spoken of the times he would dream of her being alive, and how she would disappear right before his eyes, and how he would look for her all the while growing more and more restless and emotional. In the times, he spent with Callie in the compound and on the road, they would talk about everything and anything. It allowed Daryl to vent, having kept everything inside for so long which only seemed to build up even more. And Callie would allow him the space and the silence to talk and open up to her about how he felt, something that he found difficult to do.

He had told Callie how he had let Beth down, which had been refuted by Callie. The situation was tough for Daryl to understand. He was proud that he was able to protect others, and when he wasn't able to protect them from the fate of the new world, he would beat himself up internally. Every loss was emotional, and Daryl, in a way, felt it even more. If only he had been quicker, if he had seen the warning sign, if only…

"She remembers you, yeah," Callie replied. "But… her memory isn't as good as it used to be. She finds it difficult to remember faces and names. But she remembers your name."

Daryl couldn't hide the disappointment in his face. He was, however, able to hide the sadness and heartache that clasped at his heart.

"I found out about her recovery from Steven," Callie explained further. "She only remembers little bits but it's confusing for her and she becomes frustrated. When she woke up, she didn't know about the turn. She thought she had her appendix out and that her father was alive and coming to visit her. And with time, she could remember names of people she had met but she thought they belonged to neighbours, school friends, family members."

"Must be strange for her," Daryl replied.

"It is but she's taking it in her stride," Callie smiled. "She's a strong girl."

"That she is," Daryl replied.

"Rick said he wants to speak with me," Callie said, changing the subject. "Something about an interview."

"Yeah," Daryl nodded. "It's protocol. It's what was in place when we got here."

Callie nodded. "Carol told me that there's a room at her house for me if I wanted it. She seems nice."

Daryl nodded. "She's a great woman," he replied, his eyes falling on the older woman. "She's been through a lot since the last time I saw ya. But she's healing."

"I never thought I would find you again," Callie said honestly. "I had the co-ordinates of Alexandria in my head for a long time. And I hoped that I wasn't too late. And then I got to the hospital. And it all seemed crazy."

"Ya here now," Daryl replied. "That's all that matters."

Rick approached them in that moment. "You ready to talk privately?"

Callie nodded and followed behind Rick with Daryl in tow. He led her to a house with a porch and beautiful flowers growing along the path. An apple tree was planted in the front, casting a shadow upon the grass. The exterior was pristine and well kept, something she hadn't seen in a long time. The houses she and Beth had stayed in on their way to Alexandria had been decaying shells, a stark contrast to the one's she was seeing now.

He led her into the house, opening the door to the living room where she saw a chair situated in front of the bookcase that aligned the walls. A camera was set up on a tripod, something she hadn't seen in a while. Her job had entailed broadcasting news around the country, highlighting important bulletins to the homes of the citizens of America, and it had been something she never expected to see again. It had been years since she had last sat in front of a camera, and she could only hope she would find her voice once more.

She sat in the chair and watched as Rick pressed record on the camera. He sat down on the couch next to Daryl. She had heard a lot about Rick as Daryl opened up to her more. He was the leader of the group – a role in which he hadn't expected to have but one that he approached with dignity and respect to those around him. He took their needs into consideration, and wasn't selfish in his own need to be protected. He saw them as people – then family soon after – instead of a number.

"Can you state your name for the video, please?" Rick began, pulling a new folder from the table next to the couch.

"Callie Browne," she began. "Caroline Browne."

"How old are you?"

She thought for a moment, her brow furrowing as she counted the years that had dragged by. "Thirty-one."

"How old were you when the world ended?"

She thought for a moment again. "Twenty-eight, I think."

Rick nodded, scribbling on a piece of paper. "What did you do for a profession before the outbreak?"

"I was a journalist," she replied.

"Where were you when you found out about the outbreak?"

"At work," she answered. "I had to broadcast it to the country."

The two men observed her for a moment. Daryl remembered hearing about the outbreak worsening on the radio. He'd been fixing up vehicles on the side to get money to bail Merle out of jail. It was something that he'd heard over the course of a few weeks but had never really paid too much attention to. It felt like a million years ago.

"Where did you end up after?"

"In the city, mostly. Then my colleagues and I ventured out in hopes of finding safety at one of the safe zones," Callie began, her eyes glazing over as she remembered the faces, the names, the voices of her friends. She had always believed herself to be confident and strong, but when an apocalypse was thrown her way, she soon realised that she was petrified and vulnerable and nowhere near ready for the end of the world. "We never made it to a safe zone, and we had grown in size by a significant amount. So, we set out on our own. Found an area that would cater for us all."

"How did you meet Negan?" Rick asked, his voice changing at the mention of his name.

"He found us one evening," Callie began. "Just walked right into camp like he owned it. His men had surrounded us. We had women and children clinging to each other as they ordered us to give them half of everything that we had. We had a lot of people to look after and care for, and them claiming half of everything that we had fought to accumulate was… suicide. We went hungry. We were left with nothing to protect ourselves."

"How long did you deal with him?"

"A whole year," she replied. "It was exhausting. While they were taking half of our supplies, they were also taking half from all the other groups that were around us. Leaving all of us hungry when they had enough food to last them for months."

"You were taken to the Sanctuary?"

Callie faltered at that moment. "Yeah. Negan had mentioned us joining them and being part of the Saviours. We politely declined. He didn't necessarily liked that. We didn't want to join those kinds of people. We saw what they did. We knew what they were capable of doing. And that wasn't us. And because we refused to join them, they opened fire on my group in the early hours. Death was all around me. Eighty-seven people died that morning."

"You were the only survivor?" Rick asked, his voice heavy. He knew what it was like to watch his loved ones perish at the hands of someone else. The dead were part of the problem but people were the bigger issue. He thought back to the Governor and shuddered slightly.

"Yes," her voice was quiet, guilty.

"What happened to him?"

Callie stopped for a moment. She glanced over at Daryl, saw how his brows furrowed at her. They had spoken about leaving the compound for a long time, and when they had, they couldn't believe they were free. Negan would still roam the earth but if they were able to distance themselves away from him then they stood a chance.

She stood and walked over to her backpack. Rick threw a look in Daryl's direction, but the hunter was watching her closely.

She placed her hand into the backpack and pulled something out. As she laid it on the table, disbelief washed over the two men.

Lying on the coffee table was Lucille.

"I did what I had to do," Callie began, avoiding their gaze. "I gave him a taste of his own medicine."


	6. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE: THE PAST

 _"I'm going to kill him one day."_

Daryl woke to Callie's voice coming through the wall. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He'd been able to sleep for an hour or so each night before the music blared into his tomb once more. He stretched gently, his muscles protesting against his movements. He had found himself sleeping huddled in the corner, in the part of the tomb that had solid darkness no matter what time of day it was. The music, it seemed, would begin at random intervals, and would stretch from minutes to hours. He knew their intentions, and he would not let them break him. He was stronger than they thought he was.

Her voice was strong and determined, and he could hear her jaw clench as she spoke. And he believed her. The anger and hate within him was tough to comprehend. Negan had done damage to them both, in ways that even he couldn't explain nor think about. The man was ruthless, and he didn't care how much pain he brought to other people.

He heard Callie stand from her position next to him. He heard her bare feet pad against the concrete ground and head towards the door to her cell.

 _"There's got to be a way to get out of this place,"_ she said, her voice at a distance.

"There ain't," Daryl called out. "Already tried."

He heard her groan in frustration, and then heard her return to where she had been.

It had been a week since he arrived at the Sanctuary. An entire week – seven whole days – of being confined within the tomb, starving, dehydrated and naked. He had visitors in the form of Negan's men who would give him enough water for his body to not shut down from dehydration. The tomb didn't offer much in the way of cleanliness, and he was struggling with the inability to relieve himself properly. He was struggling, though he didn't want to admit it. Merle had taught him to go out fighting and to never show weakness with anyone. And for Daryl – as the years crept by – it was something he always did and found comfort in doing. The last time he tore the walls down for someone, he had lost them, and losing Beth was enough for him to build those walls back up stronger.

They both fell silent, and it seemed as though that was enough for them both. They were together in this. Negan had hurt them both in ways neither of them were able to talk about deeply.

The music began to play. The familiar song that they had listened to for longer than they wanted to admit. They sat, unknowingly, back to back against the wall as they stared into the darkness as the music vibrated the walls around them and the ground beneath them. Callie brought her knees up to her chest and placed her hands over her ears in hopes of drowning out the music. Daryl sat with his legs tight to his chest, his head resting upon his knees as his emotions took control and he cried into the darkness.

They sat like that for hours, until the music suddenly stopped. Footsteps echoed down the corridor towards them. They waited quietly. It was the same old routine that they had both quickly gotten accustomed to. It was almost like the calm before the storm as they knew as soon as the music stopped that Negan would make an appearance. Their position within the tombs was enough to give them protection from his watchful gaze.

The footsteps stopped in front of Callie's door. The sound of the door opening filled their senses, and he stood automatically.

 _"Well, well, well…"_ Negan began. _"Let's see if today is the day of champions, shall we?"_

Callie remained silent as Negan stepped into the tomb.

 _"I always forget just how claustrophobic this room is for a man my height. Although it seems suitable for you, darling."_

"Don't call me darling,"

Callie seethed.

 _"You might want to watch your tone with me as I've brought you a very special gift,"_ Negan said, his tone sharp. _"I have two choices for you today, darling. I've brought you two outfits, that's how nice I am. You can either choose these overalls and work for me, though I wouldn't want to see that tight frame in such baggy attire. Or you can wear this little black number and be one of my ladies. I know which one I'd much prefer you in."_

"I'll take the overalls."

Callie said sharply.

 _"You sure the little black dress won't tempt you? It's a shame you'd have to hide all that with this,"_ Negan continued.

 _"I'm sure these will do just fine,"_ Callie replied.

 _"If you change your mind, darling, just give me a holla and I'll be there with the black dress in hand,"_ Negan replied, before leaving Callie's tomb.

A knock sounded on his door, and he waited in the darkness. As the door opened, her saw Negan step into the room, his expression changing at the sight of him. He dragged his gaze across Daryl's face and down his body.

"Huh," Negan exclaimed before meeting Daryl's gaze. "Here you go, champ. Work starts in ten minutes."

And with that, the door was shut once more and kept unlocked.

He changed quickly. The material was scratchy but he didn't care, he was just grateful that he was able to hide his body and scars from unwanted attention. Another knock sounded on his door and he didn't have to wait to answer it for it opened to reveal Dwight. The familiar crossbow hung off his arm awkwardly. A surge of anger coursed through his body but he took a deep breath even though he was internally cursing.

The smugness of Dwight was enough to close the gap between them and for Daryl to bash his head in, but he knew he needed to bide his time.

"Both of you, this way," Dwight called out.

Daryl stepped out of his tomb and breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to his right and stood there was Callie dressed in the same overalls as he was. Her entire body was swallowed up by the material, and she had to make do with folding the arms and the legs to ensure she was able to walk and move around properly in them. His gaze was on her for a moment longer than he was even used to, and it was only then that he was able to see her properly since he arrived there.

The bruises to her face – like his own – were healing and changing colour. The cuts and wounds were healing too but at a much slower pace. Their eyes met for the first time and she offered him a smile.

He wondered why she had chosen to adorn the overalls when she had the opportunity to get out of the tombs and have a better chance of escaping.

As they walked behind Dwight who led the way out to the grounds, they observed the emptiness of the corridor. As she glanced up at him, Daryl understood they were both on the same wavelength. It would be easy enough to overpower him, claim back his crossbow, and attempt to escape. It would be suicide, they both knew that, but was it worth it?

With a shake of Callie's head, Daryl knew that it wasn't.

As Dwight pushed open the doors to the grounds, Callie and Daryl took the opportunity to look around at their surroundings. Metal barriers weaved around the area, and Daryl thought back to the prison. It had been a safe haven – the only place he had truly felt safe. But this place was something else. As they observed the surrounding area, and took in the finer details of the compound, they found things that turned their stomachs slightly.

People dressed in the same attire, just like them, were handling the dead with poles. The dead were attached to the metal fences with poles through their body, hung up and moving. The sight of them caused Callie to gasp.

She had always known to kill the dead before they killed her. And to parade around the compound with one of the dead attached to a pole was a sight she never believed she would ever see. It was almost mocking, and she was utterly disturbed by it. Daryl felt her tense next to him.

"You're monsters," Callie said, her voice low and raspy.

Dwight's expression soured. "You speak to me like that again and you'll have one of these right between the eyes."

Callie turned her attention at him and smirked. "It looks too heavy for you, sweetheart. Can you even hold it up?"

"That's one strikes to your name," Dwight said bitterly. "Two more and you're done. Got that?"

Callie scoffed and turned her attention back to the dead.

"All you have to do is tie them up to the fences. Doesn't take too much brain work to figure it out," Dwight said. "If you're bitten then bad luck to you."

Dwight walked away leaving them both stood there.

"What is wrong with them?" Callie whispered, her voice low enough so that Daryl was the only one to hear her.

"Where do ya want me to start?" Daryl asked, and Callie glanced at him. She knew there wasn't a definitive answer, but she didn't know how to feel about it all.

As they set to work moving the dead to the fences, the urge to do the right thing and end their existence was overwhelming. The snarling and moans of the dead filled the air around them, and they were aware of the watchful gazes of Negan's men all around them. They soon got over the urge to kill the dead, and made sure that all the dead were attached to the fences, their hands, abdomen and legs bound.

But what they didn't expect to hear was the sound of gunfire just a stone's throw away from them.

* * *

Author's Note: I know it's what everyone's been waiting for - the Bethyl reunion! Their reunion will be in the next chapter! It would've been a lot sooner but I had to set up the story.


	7. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX: THE PRESENT

He found her sat under the tree in the middle of the night.

Rick had knocked on his door, notifying him of the switch in watch. As Daryl sleepily placed his boots on and adorned a jacket due to the cooler nights, he trudged towards the tower. Nights were a lot quieter now which for the inhabitants of Alexandria was a god send. There was the danger of walkers which was something that everyone was used to, and they didn't pose much of an issue as the members of the small town were trained with the younger members being trained to protect and fight.

His gaze was scanning the surrounding area; with his attention intensifying with the movement of trees and bushes blowing in the breeze. It felt good to be on watch and know that the threat of Negan was gone, and that he had been dealt with. To hear that come out of Callie's mouth was like music to his ears, and it had taken him a while to truly understand and comprehend that Negan was no more.

The damage Negan had done would always be unforgiveable and to know that he had been given the same end as the ones he dealt out felt good to know.

Callie's promise to kill Negan had always been something he believed but to hear of his fate was reassuring to him.

As he cast his gaze across the town, his eyes fell on the figure sat beneath the tree. Her back was resting against the trunk and as he squinted his eyes into the darkness he found her eyes to be closed. He furrowed his brow and, taking one last look at the outside world, climbed down the tower and slowly made his way over to her.

He stood for a moment watching as her eyes remained close, oblivious to him approaching. It felt surreal that she was back with them.

After all this time.

Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, and tiredly moved to him. Though it was still night, the candles that aligned the roads offered them some light. It was only after a small moment that a soft smile etched across her face at the sight of him.

"D-D… Daryl," she voiced, her voice changed.

"What ya doin' out here so late?" he asked, his voice soft. He knelt and heard his knees crack in protest.

"C-couldn't s-sleep," she replied quietly.

He offered her a nod and fell silent. He didn't know what to say to her. All the conversations he would have with her in his dreams had floated away the moment their eyes met, and he struggled to think of something to say. It pained him to know that the moments they shared would only be remembered on his part. He didn't know what hurt more.

"Y-your… hair… is l-longer," she whispered with a small smirk on his face.

He smirked and was grateful for the darkness and the length of his hair that was able to his blushed cheeks. "Yours is shorter," he said.

"I cut it," she replied, smiling. "I like it."

"It suits ya," he replied.

She beamed at him at that moment. "T-thank you. I wasn't sure if it was g-going to suit me."

They fell into a comfortable silence. Beth patted the ground next to her and Daryl moved into a sitting position. He sat awkwardly on the ground. He felt his skin burn under her gaze, the same as when they used to be together.

"M-Maggie," Beth began. "She t-told me about you. H-how you helped me when we were s-separated from the group after the p-prison fell t-through."

Daryl bowed his head in response.

"I-I'm trying to r-remember," she said frustrated. "It's h-hard."

Daryl nodded, unsure of what to say. "Ya remember anything from that time?"

Beth thought for a moment. "S-some. It c-comes back in w-waves… I t-thought that I'd… d-dreamed it all."

"It felt like a dream," Daryl said honestly. It still felt like he was living in a dream world. Losing Beth had caused him and the group so much inexplicable pain that neither of them knew how to approach. The guilt was overwhelming, the sadness was unbearable, and the denial was crushing. The weight he felt on his shoulders was something he had to live with, and was something he believed he had to live with for the rest of his life. But now, with Beth just an arm's length away from him, it seemed crazy to know she was here.

"M-Maggie told me about what you did," Beth began. "H-how you shot D-Dawn after she s-shot me."

"Mhmm," Daryl sounded.

"I never liked her," Beth whispered.

"She ain't something ya have to worry about anymore," Daryl replied. "What do ya remember?"

"W-waking up," Beth whispered. She thought for a moment. "I can r-remember waking up in s-stages. Then p-pain. I t-thought the world was o-okay again and it wasn't. I had to get u-used to the c-change but… it was h-hard…"

Daryl nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. He would wake up some days and forget, believing to be in the trailer he shared with Merle. He wouldn't realise until he would walk out of the house and find himself in Alexandria, and the faces of his friends would come into view. It was hard for him to remember, and he could only feel for Beth as she had to readjust to a world she didn't remember.

"I t-thought you were my n-neighbour," Beth said with humour in her voice.

"Well we are neighbours again," Daryl smiled.

Beth smiled and nodded. "That we are," she said before her face fell. "It feels w-weird without G-Glenn. I s-still c-can't believe it."

Daryl bowed his head. It did feel weird without Glenn, something he had tried hard to focus on for longer than he was capable of. He had been the light in the group, the reassuring friend who offered encouragement when people needed to be uplifted. Daryl had spent so long in denial, knowing that it was his way of protecting him. It was easier to think of his friend somewhere else, and not buried in the grounds of Hilltop.

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered, reaching for his hand. He allowed her to lay her hand upon his, feeling the softness of her palm on his skin.

"It's hard," he said, his lip trembling.

"B-but their baby is g-going to be so loved," Beth whispered. "And the baby will know how a-amazing and selfless their father was."

Daryl nodded. Maggie had been stronger ever since the day she lost her husband. It was as if a calmness had washed over her, all her fears and worries about the future, and all the sadness she felt in her heart had been numbed. She would speak about Glenn being by her side; she couldn't see him but she still felt him around her. She would always have her memories of him, the letters he would write to her when he was on watch and she would be sleeping. To read his words and see his handwriting was enough for the pain within her heart to dissipate.

"A-And I get to see her b-become a m-mother," Beth whispered tearfully.

Daryl nodded silently.

"I've missed ya so much," Daryl whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking. "Ya might not even remember-"

She reached for his face tenderly, and she stroked his face with her thumb. Her hand was jittery with nerves more than anything. He felt the familiar goosebumps surface upon his skin, a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. He offered her a small smile, one that never truly reached his eyes but she understood. She felt it too. And though they didn't need words to fill the silence, all they needed was the closeness of one another.

And when Beth's voice filled the night air once more, he felt his heart race.

"I've never f-forgotten your kiss."


	8. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE PAST

The gunshots ricocheted around the compound causing all prisoners to take cover. Daryl pulled Callie behind a loading vehicle, bullets bouncing off the exterior around them, as both waited it out. They heard shouting and hollering around them as Negan's men took cover against the onslaught of bullets aimed towards them. Daryl narrowed his gaze at his surroundings and peered through the window of the vehicle.

He saw men running in all directions; armed with weapons and moving almost in sync towards the immediate threat. Daryl noticed that the men worked together well, like they had practiced repeatedly to perfect their stance. Daryl returned to his crouch position, noticing the worried expression of Callie's face, her eyes distant as she fought through an internal battle. He reached for her, his hand resting on her shoulder. She moved her gaze towards him and she took a deep breath, panic washing over her.

"Hey," Daryl whispered huskily. "Keep ya head up. Can't lose ya now, girl."

"We can get out of here," Callie whispered, as she glanced around at the attention being focused on the attack. "We can leave this place."

Daryl stared at her for a moment, then snapped his head around to look closely. After a moment, her eyes met his.

She was right.

Negan's men were dealing with the attack, their focus solely on that which left no attention to be on them or the other prisoners. As the other prisoners remained where they were, using the strung-up walkers as protection from the bullets aimed their way. Daryl opened the door to the vehicle slowly, with Callie moving out of the way for him. He checked the gas levels and gave a nod to Callie.

Callie kept watch as Daryl worked on the vehicle. After a few moments, they heard the engine start. He motioned for Callie to get into the vehicle, and she crept round the other side. They closed the doors behind them, with Callie keeping her attention on the uproar happening just a few metres away from them. Daryl manoeuvred the vehicle out of the parked area and put his foot down.

A bullet shot at the window screen, causing Daryl to speed up. "Put ya head down," he called out to Callie. She followed his order and he drove through metal fences that separated the large compound. She held her head in her hands, her breathing becoming erratic as panic washed over her. She felt the vehicle lurch forward at such a pace that her body reacted to the movement, her body sliding off the seat and banging against the dashboard.

Daryl mumbled an apology before taking a deep breath. He kept his eyes on the prize – the exit in this case – and increased the speed on the vehicle, and gripping the steering wheel hard. As the vehicle crashed through the locked gate, he felt a sense of relief at seeing the door be ripped off and hanging off the front of the truck. He kept driving, aware of the bullets bouncing off the vehicle as they redirected their weapons towards them.

He kept his attention solely on the road ahead as he distanced himself and Callie further away from the Sanctuary. He was aware of Callie still in the position as she was, her head still protected by her hands and arms.

"Hey…" he called out, and when he didn't get a reaction from her, he continued. "Ya can sit up now."

When she didn't follow his order, he furrowed his brow.

"Callie?" he called out once more. When he didn't get a response from her, he continued driving. He steered the vehicle behind a thick brush, the trees and bushes swallowing it up and hiding it from view. He opened the door and moved round to the passenger side.

He pulled open the door. He laid a hand upon Callie's shoulder and pulled her round to look at him.

As soon as his hand rested on her, he felt it. The uncontrollable shiver of panic.

"Callie, I need ya to look at me," he said calmly. "Sit back on the seat for me. Keep breathin', yeah?"

He guided her back onto the seat with his strong hand. Her head was still down, her hands protecting her head. He felt her breathing change slightly, but it still wasn't the way it should be. He had moments of panic, when it would just engulf him and hold him tight. Sometimes it would only be for a few moments, but other times, it would just be unrelenting, and he would feel like his world was crumbling down around him.

He furrowed his brow and waited. His hand remained on her shoulder, and he could still feel the shiver to her body as she crumbled due to fear. The panic that radiated from her body was noticeable, and it made him fearful too. They had gotten out of the Sanctuary, and he didn't expect her to react in such a way. He understood that it was something she couldn't control, and he also understood that she needed him more than ever in that moment.

"Breathe in for me," Daryl whispered. "One… two… three…"

As he saw her follow his instructions, he felt at ease knowing that she was becoming in control of her anxiety.

"And breathe out," Daryl continued. "Three… two… one…"

Carol had taught him to control his breathing. When things became too much for him and he felt like he was losing his grip on the world, Carol had been there to lend him an extra hand. She had been through so much in her life; an abusive husband, her daughter dying at such a young age and in such a terrible way, and he had always been in awe of her strength and determination at making sure she didn't give in to her fears. Her words floated into his head at that moment; _'It's okay to feel the way you do. Sometimes you must experience the storm to learn to appreciate the stillness of a new day'._ He had always wanted to understand it, and it wasn't until he relayed it in his mind that he truly understood.

They had been through hell as prisoners at the Sanctuary. And they had beaten, starved, and tortured. The fear and uncertainty of their life now was something that they would just have to ride out. He knew Negan and his men would be on the hunt for them, and they just had to bide their time before reuniting with Rick and the others. They would have to be careful and protect themselves more than ever, but Daryl knew that they could do it. They had survived through so much worse, and they were going to survive this.

"Ya doing great," Daryl whispered.

"I'm… scared," Callie muttered, her breath hitched. It was the first time since their first introduction that she spoke honestly. She had always been brave, keeping her emotions in order, but now… she was struggling. The effects of Negan and his Saviors had thrown her into a deep abyss of anxiety; the hands of demons beginning to drag her further down into an unknown pit of despair.

Daryl remained silent for a moment. "Ya got me. I ain't going nowhere. We're in this together now, okay?"

Callie turned to Daryl at that moment and met his gaze. She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding. "I've got your back. I promise."

Daryl nodded, grateful. It was going to be hard to rely on someone that wasn't Rick or Carol, but she had proved her worth to him. "Ditto."

"Where are we gonna go?" her voice was timid and uncertain.

"We're gonna find somewhere," he began. "But we gotta keep movin', yeah? We gotta leave this vehicle behind and go the rest of the way on foot."

She nodded, and he touched her shoulder reassuringly. He helped her out of the vehicle, aware of the clumsiness of her limbs. Callie paled beside him, and she emptied the small contents of her stomach against a tree as Daryl scanned the area around him. His mind tried to remember the roads he took, but they were blurred. He was driving away from the compound so quickly that he now had no idea where they were headed as he knew he had a limited amount of time to get away before the Saviors would be hot on their trail.

Once Callie was recovered, Daryl led the way.

The dying light was on the shoulders as they traipsed through the woods. The roads, Daryl deemed, were too dangerous to venture on foot, and so the woods were their best bet. He would be able to track even though the weight of his crossbow was missing from his hands.

"We gotta keep our heads together," Daryl ordered. "We have limited time before it's night fall. Ya see anything, ya tell me, okay?"

Callie nodded, and Daryl led the way into the woods. As they ventured deeper into the unknown, the woods welcomed him like an old friend.


	9. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE PRESENT

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Carol said as she guided Callie around the house. She had led her to the spare bedroom that was made up for her stay. As she glanced around the room, she noticed the pristine bed with pillows plumper than she had ever witnessed and bright windows that allowed the golden evening light to stream in. "Fresh towels are in the en-suite."

"Thank you," Callie said appreciatively. "Again… thank you for opening your home to me."

"It's my pleasure," Carol smiled. "You brought Beth home, we can't thank you enough."

"It was nothing," Callie whispered with a smile.

Carol only offered a grateful smile then. "There's fresh clothes in the drawers there. The water is warm if you want a shower or bath. I'll leave you to settle in."

As Carol closed the door leaving Callie alone, the woman looked around at her new room. It felt so strange being in a room with a fresh bed made up when she spent months upon months lying on the hard ground. It was almost foreign, a stark contrast of her very real reality. She moved over to the chest of drawers and looked through the available clothes folded neatly before pulling out a simple jumper, t-shirt and jeans. She then opened the top two drawers that were smaller in length and noticed clean underwear; there wasn't much selection of size, but it was a choice she never had in the outside world.

She moved into the bathroom and switched on the shower. She quickly stripped out of her clothes which she was sure would've crumbled off her body if she wore them for another day. As she stood underneath the warm water; the warmth only lingering on the skin for a moment before it was replaced with the coolness of the dying summer weather.

The cold air clung to her naked body as she scrambled to find a towel. She dried herself quickly before adorning the new clothes. And though the sun outside still shone defiantly despite the changing of day, she laid upon the bed and closed her eyes. Sleep beckoned her in a way it had never done before; as for so long, growing tired had become her enemy. But now… she felt safe for the first time in months.

And though sleep had beckoned her quickly, the dreams were kept at bay. She was able to settle but habit had forced her to be aware of her surroundings; the sounds around her being something she focused on, the movements around her being something she was aware of. So as the evening stretched into night, she found herself falling deeper and deeper into a sleep that her body and mind so desperately needed; one that healed the aching muscles, the tired mind, and kept the anxiety at bay for just a few hours.

She stirred a few times, aware of the change in light in the room, aware of the stillness of the world outside the window, and aware of her calm breathing, but sleep was a drug for her in that moment. As the hours stretched by slowly and she relished in the good night's sleep, she was unaware of the movement outside her bedroom door.

It took her a few moments to realise, and when she did, she cursed herself mentally for being too comfortable too quickly. There were different sounds she had to get used to, but this was something she had heard before; the scuffle of feet upon the floor of a walker or an enemy, the slow and steady movement as if waiting for the best moment to pounce. She opened her eyes and grabbed the knife she'd placed under her pillow just as the door was pushed ajar. She slipped out of bed soundlessly and stepped around the bed, her footing cautious and ready for an attack.

The realness of the new world was something she had found difficult to comprehend; the survival of the fittest, the innate reaction in her body and mind at any potential dangerous situation that arose.

As the door opened further, she watched as the darkened figure masked by the blanket of night entered the room.

"C-Callie?" the soft voice of the young woman she had spent every single day for the last five months with entered her ears.

"Beth? Is everything okay?" Callie discarded the knife on the chest of drawers with a clatter.

"Yeah… no…" Beth began, her voice jumping slightly at the clatter of the knife. "I… I c-can't sleep…"

"It's okay," Callie whispered reassuringly. "You can stay here tonight if it'll make you feel better?"

"Y-yes please," Beth whispered, closing the door. Callie and Beth moved over to the bed and they both laid there in silence. "It's w-weird seeing M-Maggie a-again."

Callie turned her head to Beth's voice, hearing the fear in her voice. "It can be, but it doesn't have to be."

"S-she thought I was dead," Beth whispered sadly. "For ninety… six days, they all thought I was g-gone."

"They saw you get shot in the dead," Callie whispered. "That's tough for people to witness, and a shot to the head isn't something you recover from. But think of it as day one. It's the start of something so wonderful where you can all get to know each other again."

Beth was silent for a moment before she nodded in the darkness.

"And she needs you more than anything now," Callie continued. "She's about to give birth any day now, and your return will mean so much to her knowing her child has their auntie."

"Thank you," Beth whispered, reaching for Callie's hand and Callie squeezed it wordlessly.

They both laid in silence for another moment. They heard people conversing beneath the window and heard the change in the night shift. The whole system of Alexandria was something that Callie had been pleased with since she had first arrived at the community; and from what Rick and Daryl had told her about the threat that Negan had descended upon the safe haven. Negan had been a terrible man who had taken everything and more from them that to know they were now safe from the work of a man so ruthless.

"I kissed Daryl," Beth continued after a moment.

"Wait… tonight?!"

"No… before we were… s-separated," Beth answered honestly. "We sat and spoke tonight and I remembered everything he did for me… and how he never gave up on me no matter what… and I… wanted to kiss him again…"

Callie smiled, remaining silent as she listened to Beth. She thought about the last few months of being on the road with Beth and being in awe of how defiant she was despite the reality she was now living in. She would only speak in written notes for a long time before she was confident enough to know her voice was worthy of being heard. And she had spoke about her family and a man who had protected her with his life; and for a while, Callie hadn't been able to put the puzzles together. His name was one that she struggled to remember but she remembered the sheer defiance of the man as well as a few images she was able to conjure up. Dark, longish hair; blue watchful eyes; and a crossbow.

And it had taken a few weeks for Callie to realise the man Beth was talking about was Daryl.

The very same man who had shown sheer defiance when it came to protecting her; and though his crossbow was missing from his side, the man Beth spoke about was every inch the kind and considerate man she knew.

"You… you brought be back to everyone…" Beth whispered noting the silence coming from Callie. "Why did you put… your life… on the line for… me?"

The truth was never easy and sometimes it became suffocating and completely unavoidable. Callie bit her lip as she tried to figure out the best way to tell Beth, but no matter how she tried to word it make it seem okay, it wasn't. It stung more than she had ever believed it would but this was her reality and there was nothing she could do about it.

But when her voice filled the quiet room, it was like her voice cut through a perfect painting of a perfect world and the realisation began to set it.

"I'm dying."


	10. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE: THE PAST

The shack offered them with more comfort than they had in the compound, and for that they were grateful. As the wooden walls protected them from the storms that rattled their temporary home with such a force that they were surprised it was still standing the next morning, Daryl and Callie knew their best bet was to hold out for the storm to pass. They both knew it wasn't the best thing for them to do what with the Saviors potentially being hot on their trail but being out in a storm wasn't the best situation to find themselves in.

Callie was on watch that early morning as the sun battled against the heavy darkened clouds to light up the sky. She thought back to the last few days of being holed up in the shack and how they both began to feel anxious at the fact that they were forced to be sitting ducks. Daryl had taken himself off for a few hours as the weather peaked, and the rain and winds stopped for enough time for him to venture out and hunt for food for them both.

But the weather was worsening as the hours stretched by, and Callie wondered whether their time was running out.

If the Saviors were hunting them down, they had limited time to get away. The weather had been something neither of them had prepared for, and it was now something they had to take into effect.

Daryl's still form shifted slightly and Callie moved her gaze from the gap in the window of the shack. He stilled for a moment before he opened his eyes and blinked a few times. His gaze moved to her and he sat up, running a hand through his hair as he yawned.

"You were completely out of it," Callie commented, a playful smirk upon her face.

"I feel out of it," Daryl replied, moving his hands to his eyes where he rubbed them.

Sleep had evaded them for the last couple of days as the storm raged on around them. The black clouds would sprawl across the sky, engulfing them in a darkness they had never seen before. The air around them grew heavy, suffocating as the winds billowed around them, threatening the stability of their safe place. And there would be moments where the world would grow still for all but a moment as the scent of rain filled the air around them, and as the silence would become deafening with the wind holding its breath ready for the main event, the lightning would come – a brilliant shock of white in the graphite sky – and the thunderous boom always calling its warning too late. The thunder would crackle in the distance, rumbling and echoing against the thick blackness of the sky. And for a moment, everything would stop except for the delicate pattering of tiny droplets upon the wooden shack.

And if it wasn't the thunderstorm that seemed unrelenting, the worry of them being found kept sleep at bay.

"Who's Beth?"

Daryl snapped his head in Callie's direction at the mere mention of her name, and he stared at her for a few seconds before he recovered enough to offer her a response. "W-what?"

Callie noticed the change in his demeanour. "You said the name Beth in your sleep, and I just wondered who she is."

"Was," Daryl responded quietly.

Callie furrowed her brow. "Was?"

"She died," Daryl replied, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. Even now, after all this time, the words still felt foreign to him. Life had been duller since her departure in their lives. Her death was harder to comprehend and deal with; the overwhelming guilt being something that was unavoidable and unbearable to cope with.

"I'm… I'm so sorry," Callie whispered.

The cold hard reality of losing Beth was something he never thought would hurt as much as it had. He kept people at arms-length, knowing that if they got too close then they would get hurt. Merle got hurt. Beth got hurt. Glenn got hurt.

Losing Merle hurt a lot. He had finally been able to develop a good relationship with his brother when he was taken from him. His brother had always been the villain, but he had become a hero and he had paid the ultimate price. Finding his body in such a state had been an awful reminder of the reality of the world. His walker form had ambled towards him and he was sure there had been a moment of recollection behind his brother's eyes as if he recognised him before he ambled towards him with only one aim: to rip him apart.

Losing Beth had brought unimaginable pain in his heart that he hadn't experienced with Merle. Merle was his brother, he was blood, but Beth… she was something else entirely. His heart would flutter at the sound of her voice as she sang to him. His eyes would betray him and venture in her direction whenever she was near. His skin burned whenever her gaze would fall on him; and would miss the heat upon his cheeks when she would move her gaze from him. He knew the pain of losing someone he had loved; and there was nothing he could do to bring her back.

Losing Glenn had been his fault. And the guilt had been overwhelming in such a way that he had begun to lose himself as each day passed him by. He had spent much of his since that night thinking about all the things he could've done differently that night to ensure Glenn survived. But nothing he could think of would ever change the outcome, he knew that, but it was hard for him to realise that his friend was gone. It was hard to shake the thought of the fault being on him for wanting to protect his friends from the enemy. And now, Maggie was a widow and their child was going to grow up without a father.

"Ain't nothin' to be sorry for," Daryl commented, shaking his head.

"What was she like?" Callie asked, noting the spark in his eye.

Daryl was quiet for a moment, before he allowed the smile to etch across his face. "She was… stubborn like a mule. And I loved that about her. She had this calmness about her that I just… I was like a moth to a flame…"

Callie smiled, watching as he opened the scars once more. She remained quiet as he thought about Beth, smiling as memories he had deemed as too painful to remember began to enter his mind.

"The world was dead around us, but she still had hope that one day we'd find salvation," Daryl continued. "We were out on the road for months, and y'know, ya learn stuff about people ya didn't think was possible. She found comfort in singing and she would sing to me when the nights were cold and the hope of finding our friends was dwindlin'. I miss that, and I lost that."

Callie let her gaze fall to the dusty floorboards beneath them. "You didn't lose her. She's still in your heart."

"Ain't that just the type of bullshit people say to people when they don't have a clue on what to say?" Daryl retorted, his tone changing. "She was shot in the head. She ain't in my heart. Her death is something I see every day."

Callie looked downcast once more and remained silent.

"But ya believe what ya want to believe," Daryl added a moment later. "But I lost her, so I don't believe in that."

"I lost my husband," Callie whispered after a moment. "He just died… no walker bites, nothing like that. He was just gone. So, I had to believe that he didn't want to leave me but believing that he was in my heart allowed me to continue. There's nothing wrong with believing in that. It makes the pain of every day hurt less."

"You and her would've got on like a house on fire," Daryl replied with a chuckle.

"She sounds… great," Callie whispered. "Did you love her?"

"I ain't a man worthy of love but she loved me," Daryl replied wholeheartedly. "But I loved her, and I lost her."


	11. Chapter Ten

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! Remember me? I'm so sorry for leaving this story unfinished, it's been a crazy year or so. But this story is definitely back, and the updates will be more frequent and longer. Thank you to everyone who has read this since it was first uploaded, you guys are the best and I'm so appreciative of you taking time out to read this. So without further ado, here's the next update!_

..

CHAPTER TEN: THE PRESENT

As the sun began to peek through the curtains and shone upon Beth and Callie's sleeping faces, they were unaware about the serious situation going on a stone's throw away from them.

And as a heavily pregnant Maggie called out for Beth after finding her bed still made and unslept in, she gathered the attention of Daryl who had taken the last watch of the night and was heading to his own bed. The sunrise in the distance engulfed the world in a golden hue, as if the world was on fire and slowly burning around them. He watched Maggie intently as she called out for her sister; a reminder of her calling out for Beth in her sleep when she first lost her, and they were all holed up in a barn as a storm rolled in, reminiscent to the one they felt within them.

He whistled to capture her attention, and when he had it, he tipped his head to Aaron to take over watch. The man nodded and took his place, and Daryl descended the tower.

"What's up?" Daryl asked, his voice abrupt with worry. He saw the panic in on her face, the hopelessness in her eyes, the sheer desperateness to find her sister.

"Did I dream her coming back?" Maggie asked, her voice sharp and emotional. "Did I dream it all?"

"Nah," Daryl responded, grabbing Maggie by the arms to steady her. "She's real, Maggie. She came back."

Maggie was silent for a moment as she attempted to calm her breathing. "She wasn't in her bed this morning. It's not been slept in. I can't find her, Daryl. And I thought… I'm going mad… she isn't back…"

"We'll find her, promise," Daryl reassured. "She's not left this place. We would know…"

They turned at the sound of a door opening and closing, the familiar screech filling the air around them. They watched as Callie took a seat upon the steps of the porch, a hot coffee in her hands. Daryl turned back to Maggie and grabbed her hand, leading her to Callie.

The woman looked over at them with a smile, then furrowed her brow when she saw the panic on Maggie's face. She stood to her full height, every hair on her body standing on end too. "Is everything okay? What's happened?"

"Do ya know where Beth is?" Daryl asked. "She didn't sleep in her bed last night, and Maggie is a little worried."

Callie's furrowed brow remained furrowed. "She came to me in the middle of the night. She was scared of the dark and… I'm sorry, I should've told you…"

"It's fine," Maggie's voice was sharp. "She was never scared of the dark before…"

Callie lifted her gaze to Daryl's as they both noticed the abruptness of her tone. Callie licked her lips and set her coffee cup down on the wooden porch. "She… uh… she told me her world was dark for so long after everything that happened, and the darkness scares her now. It's a harsh reminder for her. But if you want to go and see her, she's still asleep upstairs."

Maggie shook her head, wiping away the tears. "My sister… I wasn't there to protect her, but you… you were…"

Callie nodded slowly. "She told me about you and I knew that I had a duty to you to protect her the way you hoped someone would…"

Maggie offered a small smile, her lip trembling. "Is she angry with me for leaving her behind in that place?"

"No, not at all," Callie said, shaking her head. "I don't think anyone prepared for her to recover from what happened. But she did, and her memory of that day is non-existent…"

"And that's probably the best thing, Mags," Daryl reassured.

"But… if it's any consolation," Callie began slowly and hesitantly. She knew she needed to tread carefully as some situations that hadn't involved her were still raw for so many. "She spoke about you every single day on the road when we left that place. She was so excited to see you again; she spoke about the nights where you'd spend hours talking about anything and everything under the moon, and she couldn't wait to be reunited with her sister."

Maggie couldn't stop the tears from falling now, nor stop the emotion that struggled against the barriers to be set free. Her entire body wracked with sadness and guilt, but Callie closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around her just as Maggie broke into a million pieces. And Callie still held her close even when the sobbing subsided, when the wracks of sadness stopped causing her body to stagger.

The pain of losing Beth had been incomprehensible.

She had known pain with the loss of her mother before the outbreak. And she known pain with the loss of her step mother. And the paint of losing her father in such a way… and her husband a mere few months after losing Beth.

When she had lost Beth, she couldn't imagine just how dark her life would become. As Glenn stood beside her and gave her the love and support she so desperately needed; she had been blinded by the fear that her world would never be bright again. And when Glenn was taken from her, and their child continued to thrive in her stomach, she had begun to believe in the world again. The world had been so cruel, but she had her friends around her and a child she was able to meet soon, and she had finally begun to feel happy again. The world was a little brighter; but the pain was something she understood would never go away.

And then Beth… she was here, at the gate.

She looked so different, but it was her. And her mind was betraying her in ways she didn't imagine; she knew in her heart she was alive and here, but her mind refused to believe it.

"But she's safe now," Callie whispered, reassuring her. "I'm guessing she's different in many ways, but if I knew her before what had happened, I would say she's an asset to you then and now. She's the kindest girl I've ever known and she's a fighter. She helped me through a lot of stuff on the road."

"Thank you for being a sister to her when I couldn't be," Maggie whispered. "And thank you for bringing her back to me when I thought I'd lost her forever."

Callie wiped her tears away. "It was nothing, really. I wasn't going to let her stay in that place, not when I knew you were out there somewhere. I had to bring her home to you."

Maggie hugged Callie again. "I'm going to go up and see her. It still doesn't feel real."

Daryl and Callie watched as Maggie entered the house. Callie turned back to Daryl with a smile and wiped away her tears.

"Ya gonna have to get used to that," Daryl said. "People thanking ya. What ya did… bringing Beth home to us, we'll never be able to stop thanking ya."

Callie bit her lip with a chuckle. "I'll try and get used to it. But they don't have to thank me, really."

Callie began to cough, and she turned away from Daryl. The coughing fit continued to be violent and aggressive; something that she was beginning to see more frequent. As the coughing subsided for just a moment, she looked down at her hand, the familiar red stain upon the rough palm of her hand.

"Are ya okay?"

"I have to go," Callie said quickly before leaving Daryl outside the house and rushing to the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut behind her, she bent over as sharply as if she'd been punched in the stomach and chest repeatedly and drops of blood began to splatter upon the floor and her bare feet.

And by slow, torturous gradations, her coughing began to ease in intensity and then as she slid down the length of the door, and calmed her breathing as much as she could, the coughing then slowly passed.


	12. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE PAST

The woods had been his home for so long that he hadn't realised just how much he missed the freedom it provided him with.

When the world became too loud for him, he would venture into the woods and would fine the calming sounds that surrounded him would comfort him more than human contact had ever provided him with. His entire childhood was spent getting lost in the woods which now proved to be helpful; the hours spent following lost trails that had become hidden by overgrown plant and trees, with branches and plants scraping against his skin which had toughened over time.

As he led the way and keeping a watchful eye upon Callie who trailed close behind him, he felt the comfort wash over him as his eyes scanned the surrounding area. He felt safe within the woods whereas some people found themselves panicking the deeper they trailed into them. He noticed by the sound of Callie's footing behind him that she was trying with all her might to keep her footing steady and calm, and when he turned to her, he noticed the worry beginning to set in her face with a frown.

The early morning sun was already beating down upon them, but they had set off out of the shack as soon as the sky began to lighten.

"Ya okay?" Daryl asked, noticing the way Callie avoided his gaze. She nodded, her eyes everywhere other than on him. "Don't look anywhere, just look at me, okay?"

It took her a moment to shift her worried gaze to him but when she did, he was able to see just how frantic she felt.

"The woods are our friends," Daryl began, keeping his voice calm for her. "They protect us; they give us a protective shield from the sun; and they warn us of any sounds around us that we can't see. I feel safer in the woods than out on an empty and open road. Think of it as ya friend and the worry will go. I promise. Now, close ya eyes and listen to the world around ya."

Callie nodded, and took a moment to close her eyes. It took a moment for her to pick up on any sounds around her, but when she heard the rustling of leaves a stone's throw away, she felt her heart quicken.

"That's just the wind," Daryl reassured, his voice obscured slightly as he turned to look in the direction her head was turned at. "Keep listening. What can ya hear in the distance?"

As she kept her eyes closed, she allowed her hearing to venture out further. She furrowed her brow slightly as she heard something but couldn't distinctively picked it up.

"Calm ya breathing," Daryl instructed. And when she did, she smiled.

"I hear a river, I think…"

"And ya'd be correct," Daryl smirked as Callie opened her eyes.

"How are you so good at _this?_ " Callie asked, breathlessly.

Daryl shifted slightly and ran a hand through his hair. "My dad would lock me out of the trailer to teach me a lesson, and instead of sitting on the porch step outside for hours on end like he'd want me to do, I would wander into the woods at the back of our trailer. And I'd spend hours just walking and listening to the calmness of the world… and I'd imagine being somewhere else far away from home…"

"I'm sorry," Callie whispered, but Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, it was good. Didn't have to listen to my dad moan for hours like Merle did," Daryl smirked. "It taught me which leaf is best for wiping my ass on, though. So, if anything, I'd rate that as the best lesson I've ever learned."

Callie scrunched her face up and let out a small laugh. "I can only imagine the times you got that wrong."

"My ass still remembers," Daryl chuckled. "But in all seriousness, the woods can be ya enemy if ya let it. But it can be ya greatest friend if ya allow it to be."

"I lived in the city for all my life," Callie interjected. "I was always taught from day on to stay on a main road to be protected. The busier the road or street, the more I was protected. So, this is so different to me. The busy streets and cities are the enemy now that it's like my whole childhood was a lie. Busy streets kill now because of the amount of dead there."

"So, ya were a city kid, huh?"

"Yeah," Callie nodded. "I would spend hours getting lost in the city. I liked being around people, eavesdropping on people's lives for a mere moment, and just getting lost in the sea of people."

"What did ya do before all this?" Daryl asked, as they continued walking, their voices low.

"I was a lawyer by day," Callie began.

"And a superhero at night?" Daryl smirked, causing Callie to snigger.

"No, actually, but I wish I was," Callie commented with a chuckle. "I wasn't honest earlier. When I spoke about my husband… he was gone because… I was a wife, and a mother when work allowed me to."

Daryl nodded with understanding. He remained silent as Callie opened up to him.

"And now looking back, I hated myself, you know? I allowed work to completely consume me. I had a husband who just wanted my time, and my children who would always ask for me, but I'd promise them I'd be home soon, and I never was," Callie fell silent then, tears forming in her eyes. "I won cases for people to see their children when I hardly saw mine. And I wasn't there for them when the dead started walking. I wasn't there to protect them when they were bitten… and I wasn't holding them when the fever ripped through them, and I wasn't there for them when they took their last breath. I was stuck in an office with the city on lock down."

Daryl laid a reassuring hand upon her shoulder.

"And I returned home that evening when we could go to our families and get out of the city," Callie continued, her voice shaking. "And I opened the door and the house was silent and dark. And I called for them, but I was met with silence. And I looked everywhere. And I found them, laid in bed… and they looked peaceful, but they had turned. And my husband was laid on the floor in between their beds. He had been bitten, and he had taken it into his own hands and ended it before he could turn."

"I'm so sorry, Callie," Daryl whispered, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to comprehend what she had been through.

Callie shrugged and wiped her tears away. "I have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life. And I'm sure that will kill me one day."

"But I can tell ya from having parents who fought from sunrise to sunset and who didn't love me or my brother," Daryl began. "They knew ya loved them. They knew if ya had the time then ya would've been with them. But ya were working, and they knew ya were working to provide them with what they needed."

"And none of that matters now," Callie whispered sadly. "That's my punishment. I didn't have time for them and now I don't get to have a future with them."

"Would ya want them to live in this world though? Live each day hungry and scared? I've seen a lot of kids die in this world, and it's something I can't get outta my head," Daryl's voice was low. "People don't care about other people no more. It's kill or be killed whether you're a man, a woman or a kid. The world ain't built for us and it certainly ain't built for kids."

Callie nodded tearfully. She had seen how the world had changed from sheer devastation to sheer destitution with groups of people needlessly killing other groups to prove a point or to get the small amount of supplies they'd had. But she had fought to be with them; she had desperately tried to get to them when they needed her the most and though she was too late, they had been her first thought, and she would live each day with them in her heart and guiding her to peace.

"Stop…" Daryl whispered, turning his head to a sound. "Ya hear that?"

Callie listened for a moment and nodded: it was faint calling of someone in the woods.

"Someone's calling out for help," Daryl explained. "Be careful, okay? We're unarmed."

As they ventured further into the woods and closer to the voice calling out, they would not believe their eyes as they closed in on the sound. They raced up the hill to where the woods met with the highway, and through the passing, they were able to see the large concrete highway that led them into a major city.

A man was holding onto the concrete pylon connected to the highway, and his entire body was hanging from it. Daryl looked up and saw the amount of walkers trying desperately to grab the man and devour him.

And as they neared, Daryl recognised him.

Heath.


End file.
